Soaring on Broken Wings
by Lucere
Summary: [AU] A single, simple curse. Ah, but the fates that have befallen those who have disregarded it--two unable to live the way they so desire, another who ultimately strays towards death. Yet how can one possibly know where friendship ends...and love begins?
1. Prologue

Disclaimer:  All the characters from D.N.Angel and the manga/anime itself belong to Yukiru Sugisaki.  I am in no way taking credit for anything she has created, nor am I gaining profit in any way from writing this fanfiction story.  Thank you very much.

Soaring on Broken Wings

Prologue

            He let his hand lower to the half-finished portrait and slowly, gently, sketched out the sides of the girl's face.  For a moment, he hesitated, and then, making up his mind, etched a permanent smile on her lips.  Her nose he made a straight line above the mouth and curved it in an almost triangular shape off to the side.  Next came the eyes.

            Daisuke pursed his lips as he contemplated the last and final part of the picture he needed to finish before he was done with the face.  Eyebrows drawing together in a slight frown, the boy pressed the tip of the pencil against the parchment—and stopped.

            The eyes…everything depended on the eyes; they alone could express a thousand emotions that could never be described through words.  If he messed up now…

            Quickly, Daisuke shook his head to dispel his doubts.  Taking in a long, shaky breath and releasing it loudly, he closed his eyes for an instant.  It was at that moment that something came over him.

He was barely aware of the fact that his hand was moving of its own accord as the tingly feeling swept through his body and bewitched his fingers and mind.  One thing was clear to him though; if he started thinking now, he knew that the feeling would go away and the picture would seem incomplete to him no matter what he did to perfect it.  So he let the strange feeling take over him completely, left it to shape the most important part of the face, perhaps the entire body itself, with hardly a coherent thought passing through his brain.

When finally the feeling had ebbed away from him, permitting him to move his body freely once more, then, and _only_ then, did he allow himself to gaze upon the spectacle the invisible "presence" had drawn.  What he saw made _his_ eyes go wide with awe.

            Eyes, exact, precisely sketched eyes where even the tiniest of lines served a significant role in accentuating the gentle curves and borders of the eyes' structures.  Framed by soft curling eyelashes that vaguely reminded Daisuke of feathery clouds, two eyes gazed off to the side of Daisuke, never meeting his directly.  The thing, though, that caught at his breath was the way that, underneath those glassy mirrors of silent serenity, there lay an ocean of pain as deep as the blue spread wide across the sky on a bright, cloudless afternoon.  Despair, he detected, overlaid thick with a profound sorrow was buried there, too, within those bottomless depths.

            With a startled gasp, Daisuke realized that the eyes matched perfectly with the smile he had so carefully drawn upon the girl, even though that infinite hurt mingled with grief was a stark, bitter contrast against the joyful, even carefree, upturn of the girl's lips.

            Placing the pencil that was in his hand onto the desk and taking a step backward to examine the painting more closely from faraway, Daisuke found it hard to imagine that so much hurt could be fitted so well together with so much happiness.  It was like looking at night and day, yet even though they were virtually exact opposites, one appeared to be incomplete without the other, like a tapestry woven of vibrant images without color.

            A sudden thought struck him.  Was it even possible for a person to contain so much suffering and joy at the same time?  And if so, then…

            "Dai-chan!  Dinner time!"

            "Coming, Mom!"

…Who had he drawn?

Or _had_ he drawn anyone?

_Somehow,_ for a reason he did not know, he _knew_ without a doubt that _somewhere,_ out there in some part of the massive world, _someone_—a girl—was not only a replica of the one he had sketched, but _alive_ and _breathing_ as well.  And knowing so without reason, only by a feeling in his heart, gave birth to an aching mixture of apprehension, curiosity, and—above all—fear that thudded unsteadily against Daisuke's chest.

            Slowly, reluctantly, though not without a small sense of relief, Daisuke covered the portrait carefully with a cloth, removed it from his desk, and, after pondering for a moment, tucked it securely within a drawer separate from the one he used to put his other art pieces in.  He looked around, and satisfied that nothing was misplaced—no sheets of paper littered all over the floor, no pens or pencils scattered on his desk, no pictures that were _not_ placed in the drawer—left his room for the kitchen downstairs, where his mother and grandfather were already seated at the table and waiting patiently for his arrival.

            When finally Daisuke was in his own chair, and after a quick prayer of thanks, the three of them dug into their food with a vengeance.  Well, Daisuke did anyway; he felt amazingly famished after the seemingly long period of time he had spent locked up in his room.

            But still, throughout the whole quiet (for once) meal, the portrait of that girl lingered within the deep recesses of his mind.  That impossibly hurt, sad figure with a smile that easily surpassed the sun in both warmth and brightness…

            All through the rest of the day, even during his dreams, one thought was lodged firmly in his mind and would not leave him be.

            _…Who was she?_

*******

**Author's notes/rants:**  Heheh, you gotta love these.  (All notes will always be at the end, by the way)  ~_^  Ah yes, I've gone and thrown myself into _another_ fanfiction story when I haven't even finished my other one.  But sorry!  I couldn't resist doing a D.N.Angel ficcie!  I liked all the main characters from D.N.A. (Riku, Daisuke, Dark…Risa, though not really sure about Satoshi…), so I decided to stick 'em in one of my own sick and twisted fanfics and go from there.  *grins*  I also wanted to write a story in the D.N.A. category that wasn't shounen-ai, though I do recall that there were some fics out there (I think I came across about…three?  Four?  _).  Anyways, I'm trying to set this story in basically the same world as the one in the manga, but at times it might become my own world and I'll make up things.  ^_^  Also, none of the characters have met yet.  I guess you could call this a slight AU, but there shouldn't be too many things that are changed.  However, I have only read up until Volume 5 in the manga (translations) and watched 9 episodes in the anime as of the moment, meaning I probably won't end up getting a whole lot of things correct… *sigh*  I wish I lived in Japan…  ^_^  Well, enough of my stupid rants.  Was the prologue enjoyable?  Dark?  ^_^  Hopefully I'll get chapter 1 up in about a week or so.  Well, criticism and comments would be, as always, greatly appreciated!  Thank you for your time!  *grins*

~Lucere

(6/1/03)


	2. Chapter 1: Nightshade

Disclaimer:  All the characters from D.N.Angel and the manga/anime itself belong to Yukiru Sugisaki.  I am in no way taking credit for anything she has created, nor am I gaining profit in any way from writing this fanfiction story.  Thank you very much. Soaring on Broken Wings Part One: Captured Chapter 1: Nightshade 

Indigo gradually faded to hues of soft rose as the sun, a disk of golden fire tinged with a touch of orange, emerged shyly from beneath the rapidly coloring horizon, and spilled its warmth far across the blushing morning sky and quiet, slumbering lands.  The subtle mist that had wound itself stealthily about forests and distant mountains, too, began to recede back into what remained of the shadows of the night, leaving in its wake a trail of sparkling dew that clung to the leaves of trees and plants.  Gentle and hushed, like a mother's heartfelt sighs, puffs of wind swept the earth, stirring the blades of green grass, raising specks of dust unseen high into the heavens up above.

            On a particularly isolated piece of land, where water completely surrounded the sides and trees stretched their gnarly branches over the earth in a protective barrier, three children ran amok.  Hair flailing wildly, feet embedding a rampage of footsteps in the cool, almost muddy soil, they charged through the forest one by one like bulls, peals of joyful, unrestrained laughter ringing out loudly from within their heaving chests.  The trail lay long forgotten behind them, yet they were not worried—the forest protected its own with a power beyond time, a power beyond a human's comprehension, and would continue to do so until the last of the trees' roots were uplifted from their firm holds on the land beneath them.

            And there were the waters too.  Treacherous and unimaginably deep, they had always had a way with swallowing any strangers that had attempted to come to the island on their boats crafted of wood.

However, if ever they survived those foaming, churning waters, which was virtually a chance next to nothing, the trespassers would have to pass through the forest, where sometimes they met their end wandering in an endless cycle among trees, or conveniently finding a meal of brightly colored plants placed round the corner, or at times the forest itself seemed to move, and the people would find themselves suffocated by a cage of roots and branches.

Either way, the forest and waters had always shielded the people of Syr from outsiders, and it was not likely that they would fail now.

So the three children of the forest ran on, heedless of danger, free from their worries for but a single day, whilst the sun showed through the foliage above and onto the ground in dappled spots of dim light.  Leaves constantly swayed; they created shifting shadows that moved slowly about the area, as if always a gentle breeze danced among the masses of oak and elm, ash and elder.

At last they stumbled upon a small part of the forest where branches grew especially thick and lengthy, and leaves stuck to one another in heavy, large clumps.  Pressed together as they were, the leaves blotted out all traces of sunlight, and one of the only sources of light was a very, very faint greenish glow emitting from the wild plant life above and below them.  A tiny lake, astoundingly clear and with a surface that was not unlike that of a polished glass mirror, also provided a slight illumination, though it lay opposite of the three children, on the other side of the dark place.

The child furthest away from the other two, a girl of light-colored eyes and auburn hair, cut loosely at the shoulders, stood gazing at the horribly unlit surroundings.  Not a sound pierced through the dense clusters of leaves.  It was as if this section of the forest alone was cut off from the rest of the world—away from the damaging hands of humans, away from the gleaming teeth of animals.

            "Where are we?" said the now solemn child, eyes fixed pointedly on the flushed faces of the other breathless, giggling girls.

            "Awww, don't worry about it, Riku," piped the first of the two to restore her breath.  She was a pretty little thing—curly hair black as midnight; skin the white of new milk; a pair of dark eyes that seemed to _overflow_ with sweetness.  "Risa has been here before, right Risa?"

            The girl she addressed, whose features practically mirrored those of the child Riku, turned to stare blankly at her.  "I have never been here before.  What about you, Kinomi?"

            A delicate frown tugging at the corners of her mouth, she replied,  "Daddy doesn't allow me to go anywhere on my own, so I haven't been here either."

            "We're lost then," Riku stated bluntly.  "Let's see if we can find our way back."

            "Wait," said Risa,  "Why don't we stay here a little bit longer?  I mean, nobody's here to order us around or tell us not to do anything—we can do anything we like.  Can't we just for a couple of minutes?  Please?"

            "I don't know."  Riku's eyes were uncertain and dubious all at once.  "Risa, I do not like this place at all.  Something could be hiding here and we wouldn't know.  Look at how dark it is!  We should be heading back—"

            But Risa wasn't paying attention; she had already run off towards the lake, Kinomi, as always, following faithfully at her heels.  Riku grounded her teeth in frustration—her little sister never did listen to her, did she?  Curling her fingers tightly into a fist, she waded through the tall, uncut grass to the rocks the two girls sat upon, gazing intently into the still waters of the shimmering lake.

            It was not a very large lake at all—perhaps several feet in length and even less in depth.  But it was not the size that attracted the admirer.  No, it was altogether something else…it was something about the water—deathly calm, completely motionless, as if patiently awaiting the arrival of a suitable prey.  Drawing the victim ever closer with its mesmerizing, smooth surface, like that of a dancing, flickering flame ensnaring a moth with its endless, wavering pattern, until all had faded from the world except for the single beckoning flame…appearing closer…closer…closer…

            **"No!  Risa_, stop!"_**

            Risa's fingers, which had been slowly lowering to touch the lake's surface, ceased their movement abruptly.  Dark brown eyes losing their glazed look, Risa shot her a murderous glare.  "Why must you always order me around, _sister_?" She pronounced the word with obvious disgust.  "Just because you were born several minutes before me doesn't mean I have to do everything you say.  Leave me alone, Riku—I wasn't going to do anything anyways."

            With that, the girl stormed off.  The child Kinomi gave Riku a small, apologetic smile before she, too, went to the opposite end of the area, near the entrance in which they came.

            Trembling, Riku gazed into the serene waters of the lake; not so much as a ripple appeared on the lovely, gleaming mirror.  Laughing nervously, Riku chided herself.  Now what had she gone and done, screaming so at her little sister for doing nothing except wishing to trail her fingers along the water's surface?  Surely she had become a madwoman, thinking that this tiny piece of land filled with water dangerous.

            A sudden vision clouded her mind with dreadful clarity, and Riku was left numb and dumbstruck.

            _A man knelt at the lake's side, eyes filled with a wild hunger as the cool waters reflected his contorted face, and in turn his caked, parched lips.  The man reached a shaking hand towards the surface, and the waters gleamed invitingly, encouraging._

_            Then, for but a moment, conflict raged in his eyes, and he hesitated.  What was such a beautiful, untouched lake doing within such a dreary place, where trees lay their shadows, long and bleak, on the grass-swathed ground, and where leaves blocked out all traces of sunlight with a curtain of dark green?  Was this not some form of evil, sent from the Devil himself to tempt him by turning his own body's needs against him?_

_            But the lake gleamed once more, and the man found that he could not resist its sweet lure any longer.  So, hands forming the shape of a bowl, the kneeling man bent over the lake, and with one scoop, brought some of the clear, gleaming liquid to his mouth and drank._

_            Never before had he tasted such a pure and delicious substance; it was like syrup was being swished about his mouth, achingly sweet, yet without the dryness that seemed all syrups accompanied alone.  His eyesight, which had begun to blur because of age, became even less sharp._

_            And beside him, a sudden shadow fell on his kneeling form and made him look up.  A woman, clad in a splendid robe of flowing white silk, was gazing at him in wonder and amazement.  Beautiful she was, with bright rippling hair, skin pale as winter snow, and eyes neither dark nor light.  He could do nothing but stare at her as she giggled, wonder turned amusement, at his shocked face._

_            Gently, the woman took his hand, and the man rose to his feet, eyes trained solely on the tiny woman.  She led him steadily, a smile curved sweetly on her pink lips, to a patch of land where a particular plant grew heavily in abundance; he stumbled along in her wake like a man who has had too much to drink._

_            In one swift motion, the woman bent and picked a single leaf—colored a dull, darkish green—off the plant, pressing it into one of his hands.  He regarded it in surprise; the woman encouraged him with a giggle and a nod.  It seemed harmless enough.  The man popped the thing in his mouth, and was astonished to find it bitter._

_            He opened his mouth once more to speak, but much to his horror, he found that he could only force out a tiny whimper.  White-hot fire scorched his lungs; his back arched agonizingly in a soundless scream of terror as he clawed desperately at his throat.  Pale as death, the man shuddered and crumpled lifelessly to the ground.  Each time the pain washed over him anew, he would shudder deeply, and then lie still.  There was no end to the suffering—wave after wave after wave crashed into his body, unrelenting._

_            Above him, the woman watched the pitiful figure, trembling.  No longer was she the beautiful creature the man had first seen; there was a terrible and mad light in her eyes that lent her a wild, almost crazy, look.  Her face was flushed, ecstatic.  Bending down, she deliberately traced her fingers round his lips and kissed him—a light, feathery brush of the lips against another._

_            The man could no longer even raise his head.  Instead, he rolled his eyes upwards to meet her triumphant ones.  Eventually, he could not do even that, and he let them drop, dully, listlessly._

_            The woman watched him shudder, one last time, as a final wave of pain smashed through him, and Death captured him in her cold embrace.  Lips curling in a disdainful leer, the woman stepped swiftly back into the shadows of the trees and was gone as suddenly as she had appeared._

            Left behind, the corpse collapsed on its side, arms motionless, wide eyes staring dead ahead— 

            A scream came, shrill and terrified, off to the side of Riku, and it had the effect of cold water being splashed down her spine; Riku was running towards its source before her mind even registered what she was doing.  The vision receded swiftly into the shadows of her mind.

            She found the child Kinomi with her head cradled on Risa's lap, all but clinging to her as sobs racked her body and left her shivering with a fierceness that frightened Riku.  Risa's face, pale and wet with weeping, met hers for a moment, and then she broke into a fresh new wave of tears.

            "What happened?" Riku demanded.  Swooping down, she pressed a hand to Kinomi's forehead, and recoiled instantly from the immense heat.  "She has an _extremely_ high fever!  How did this come about, Risa?"

            "I-I don't know!"  Risa swallowed, her voice hoarse.  "When I ran over to see what she was doing, she was already stricken with fever.  All I found was this piece of berry in her hand.  Oh, Riku, thank the _Gods_ you are here!"  She went into a fit of weeping again.

            "Crying will solve nothing," Riku said sharply, and Risa sniffled and stopped obediently.  "Let me see that berry."  Risa handed the tiny bit over, and Riku studied it quickly.  The flesh was dark, and its skin too was black.  It was not a blackberry: blackberries left a sweet, sticky juice behind when its flesh was mashed—this one was simply meat.  Carefully, Riku peeled a small piece off the chunk and deposited it in her mouth.  A few seconds later, her head was reeling, and she had to put out her hands to steady herself, breathing deeply.  When she regained herself, Riku looked at her sister and muttered one word: "Poison."

            "Poison?" breathed Risa, swallowing hard. "What can we do then?"

            "We need to go back to Mother," Riku said grimly.  "Mother has healers that can probably help her.  Hold onto the berry—the people might need it to identify what antidote they need to use."

            "How will we know the way back?"

            "We'll find a way."  Riku grinned, without mirth, and Risa helped to hoist the sick child onto her back.  She was surprisingly light, and Riku had no trouble in carrying her around.

            They set off at pace nearest a trot.  In the forest, there were no hills or valleys or mountains—just miles and miles of grass and trees—, so ground was covered easily and quickly.  All the better, Riku thought grimly, for Kinomi was growing worse and worse by the second; now, she could no longer even work her voice.

            Perhaps the forest was assisting them, or perhaps it was simple luck, but within a couple of minutes, the two girls, along with an ill child, could sight, through a light veil of leaves, a stone castle that effortlessly loomed above the tall forest.  Seeing the bleak building rising in the distance lent the girls a surge of hope, and they trotted on with lighter hearts and feet, now that their destination could be seen.

            Sunlight, dimmed only by leaves, was cast about their path in slanting rays of mellow green; to their surprise, the girls saw that they were no longer walking on unmarked grass but on a well traveled road, judging from the myriads of imbedded footprints and lingering dust specks in the air.  Up ahead, the bleak building grew ever taller.

            Risa, at this point, broke off from Riku and, running in front, said that she would inform their mother of what had happened beforehand, and that by the time Riku and Kinomi were at the castle, there would already be healers awaiting them.  Riku nodded consent, and Risa was gone in a matter of seconds.  Sometimes, Riku thought with a small smile of warmth, Risa could do the best things possible at exactly the right time.

            The smile disappeared as fast as her sister had gone, though; Kinomi had started shifting restlessly on her back, and Riku could feel the sweat trickling from the child's forehead and onto her neck.  Calm on the exterior yet growing increasingly alarmed inside, Riku lulled the girl to a fitful sleep through an endless stream of softly spoken words.  Promises of relief and days absent of pain were constantly on the tip of her tongue.

            How right she was.

**~~~~~~~**

**Riku speaks:__**

            _"…May the child Kinomi go forth from this harsh world filled with pain, and into the realms of the dead and beyond, where she may suffer and endure no more."_

            I find it strange that that memory, out of all the memories of my childhood, is the one I can remember best.  It is as if that memory alone was preserved within a block of clear crystal, and all I had to do was for but a fleeting moment glance inside, and every detail, down to the very brightness of light radiating from the sun that day, would stand out in sharp clarity.

_            I do not know why this is so: the child Kinomi had always been an ordinary girl—a little sweet and naïve, but ordinary nonetheless.  Besides, I had never really known her; she had been part of Risa's ring of friends, not mine._

_            So why does this particular memory keep surfacing to mind when I reminisce my childhood days?  It was not my first death experience—I had seen my mother's only brother contract a fatal disease but weeks before.  It was not during a festival either; the midsummer solstice had long passed, and the midwinter had not yet come.  So why?  Why was this memory, of a child I can hardly recall, so special?_

_            A vision slowly drifts to me, a vision of man and leaf.  Then a second image begins to form, one of child and berry.  Ah…I know now._

_            It is not the man and child that make the memory stand out; it is the leaf and the berry, for in both scenarios, they had been the things that had ultimately destroyed the admirers._

_            The healers, on that day, had told me a little bit about both leaf and berry, though with the leaf I had to describe to the smallest detail before they could say anything.  They had said that they belonged to the same stem and, in turn, the same plant._

_The leaves, they had explained, were very deadly, as they could kill even the most hard-willed people in a few days with its poison.  Though considerably less dangerous, the poison that was stored in the berries was not powerful enough to destroy a full-grown person, but for a child, its effects were not unlike those of the leaves when consumed by adults.  They had also mentioned that the roots of the plant were the deadliest of all—if the poisonous tips were even touched by a person, they had a high possibility of coming down with a terrible fever._

_            I am not a healer—and I never shall be—but for some strange reason, that little bit of information has stuck with me, even now as I lie on my bed awaiting Death's cold embrace._

_            And I guess it is only fitting that I should remember it; it was that that caused the things that happened to happen, that forced the gears of fate into stoic motion._

_            What was that plant's name?  Ah yes.  I remember now._

_            Belladonna.  Or **nightshade**._

*******

**Herbal Knowledge (What knowledge?):** Nightshade _is_ an actual plant, if you're wondering, and most effects above _are_ facts, though correct me if I'm wrong please.  The leaves and roots of nightshade (really Belladonna, but I think nightshade sounds _so_ much better, doesn't it?) are quite poisonous, and the berries are also quite dangerous not because there's that much poison in them, but because of their berry-like form—they often attract children who end up eating them and then dying from poison.  I think.  *sweatdrops*  My knowledge of herbs is _not_ very good at _all_…

**Author's Notes/Rants:**  Phew!  That was, I believe, the longest chapter I have ever written in my whole life.  Of course, it's not much but hey, it's something, right?  I'm so very sorry for the long wait!  Bah, two weeks my butt…Oh yeah, concerning the setting of the story: the world is no longer set in the world Sugisaki-sama has created.  This story is now set in an alternate universe…like all the other fics I have written.  *sweatdrops*  I don't know…I think there is something about me that always makes me love to wander off in my own world.  Ah and by the way, the setting isn't really set in a certain time period—it's just in some world I created myself.  ^_^  I find myself writing better that way, letting my imagination flow.  ^_^  Anyway, how did you guys like it?  Criticism or any type of comment that could point out my weaknesses would be greatly appreciated!  (I know one thing: when I write down a person's speech, I suck major…  ^_^;)  *hugs*

Also, if you want to know some general information about my stories, or simply read my stories without the notes at the end, visit my website, which can be found in my profile.  ^_^

~Lucere

(7/22/03)


	3. Chapter 2: Encounter

Disclaimer:  All the characters from D.N.Angel and the manga/anime itself belong to Yukiru Sugisaki.  I am in no way taking credit for anything she has created, nor am I gaining profit in any way from writing this fanfiction story.  Thank you very much. Soaring on Broken Wings Part One: Captured Chapter 2: Encounter 

            Quietly, Harada Riku, first born daughter of the lady of Syr, watched the noon sun inch its way slowly across the vast, cloudless sky.  From here, at the very top of the highest tower, it seemed she could see everything; the infinite blue sky, the crashing, raging waters, the swaying forest, even the tiny village obscured by trees and leaves.  It created quite a beautiful gradient of colors—sky blue, gray blue, dim green, dark green.

            But…somehow…it was not enough…

            She wanted to see land, _land_ out on the horizon, not an endless amount of water.  Yes, she loved this place; how could one _not_ love the feeling of security within the forest, where even the sun was only a minor intruder?  Yet…she longed to see some smudge of color on those bleak, foaming waters…

Seeing a world of nothing but blue and green…

            Clenching her fists at her side, Riku swore that someday she would leave this place, leave this world barren of bright colors, and find a home on the main continent, of which she had heard of not from the people but from her mother's books, for, after all, the people of Syr, the land of the forest folk (or, some people say, faeries), did not concern themselves with the affairs of humans outside their realm.

            There was a sudden rumbling that shook the very stones of the floor itself, and Riku, startled, bent over the side of the tower to look down and to her right.  Just as she had suspected, the gate was being raised; shortly after, a tiny figure garbed in all black, as if in mourning, rode out of the castle and into the forest on a pure black horse.

            Riku's eyes widened instantly in recognition.  Quickly, she scrambled towards the staircase, nearly tripping on her skirts and falling over the side in the process, and fled down the tower, a dull clanking noise ringing out loudly from beside her.

            Cursing, she ripped the sides of her gown straight up to her thighs and tore at the whole front section of the dress, vowing savagely, as she cut across the courtyard and entered the front of the household, that never again would she wear another dress.  Hindrances all of them were—even the ones that did not fall to the soles of her boots.

            Quickly, from the entrance, where the walls split into two separate paths, one left and one right, she rounded the right corner, headed to the end of the corridor, shifted left, crossing to the other side, pass two doors, and twisted the handle on the third, where upon stepping into the room a horrified shriek confirmed her destination.

            _"What have you done to your dress?" _ Her younger sister, Risa, lay kneeling before her, fingering the torn fabric, gaping at her as if she had gone and jumped off a cliff.  "And—and _your hair!_  It's all oily and it looks like you haven't brushed it in ages!  Riku, what have you been doing?  Oh, thank the gods that Mother isn't here to see you in this shameful state!"

            Riku brushed her hands away impatiently, "Where has Mother gone, Risa?  Did she leave the island?"

            "Ah, good thing that dress wasn't worth much—probably only a couple sephryls or so—or else you would have been in a terrible dilemma.  You know how much Mother hates wasting anything, _especially_ if it's important or valuable like money—"

            "Risa!  Where is Mother?"

            "Searching for Father," said the girl, eyes flicking up to see Riku's crestfallen face.  "Why?"  
            "I thought she was going away…" Riku moved away from her sister and, crossing the spacious room, sat down heavily on her bed, sighing.  "Forget what I said, Risa.  It doesn't matter."

            Risa came to sit beside her.  "What's wrong, Riku?"  Her eyes studied her worriedly, "Are you feeling alright?"

            "I'm okay, but if I stay cooped up here any longer, I won't be!  _Gods!"_ Riku threw up her hands, "I want to get _out_ of here!  I want to get off this island, see something—_do_ something!  I can't stand the way nothing ever happens around here, the way the same things always occur _over_ and _over_ again."  She sighed, her unexpected burst of emotion cooling down to a feeling of dejectedness, "I feel like I'm just running in circles, Risa…"

            There was a long silence before Risa spoke again, in a soft voice, "I know how you feel, Riku.  I know exactly how you feel.  I'm tired too, but you _know_ that Mother won't let us go out anymore, not even to the forest."

            "That's what makes me so frustrated!  Mother has us caged in our own home, and there's nothing we can do about it!"

            "It's all because of what happened to Kinomi," Risa said sadly.  "Ever since then we haven't been able to take a step outside the castle."

            "But that was two weeks ago!  And there was nothing that we could do back then—it was _her_ fault that she died, not ours."

            "Riku!"  Tears were beginning to form at the corners of Risa's eyes, and Riku bowed her head.  "I'm such an idiot.  Sorry, Risa.  I won't mention her again."  An ironic smile twisted her lips, "After all, I forget sometimes how attached to her you were, and she to you."

            The smile went unnoticed by Risa, whose eyes were blurred from tears; by the time she had recovered from her state of depression, Riku had already laid back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, expression distant.  From the outside a single bird chirped lowly, once, twice, three times.

            Suddenly, Riku's eyebrows lowered in concentration.  She whispered sharply, "Risa, do you hear that?"

            The girl glanced at her rising figure in confusion.  "What?  The bird?"

            "No."  Her light-hued eyes grew vague, and her ears strained to listen for the almost inaudible scuffle outside the door.  "It's something else…" Riku said, more to herself than to the other girl, "Never mind Risa.  I'll be right back—I'm going to check something out."

            "Wait Riku!  Where are you going?"

            "Don't worry," she called out over her shoulder as she hastily exited the room, her voice trailing muffled behind her,  "I'll still be in the household…"

            The girl Risa was left bewildered, and, even when the older sister's voice had echoed to silence, she continued to sit on the hard pallet, blinking.  There was no sound save for the faint trilling of the quavering bird…

            And then she shot up, wringing her hands in mortification and distress.

            "Ah!  Riku!  Your dress!"

            Then she, too, was gone.

~~~~~~~

            She skidded to an abrupt halt—the sound was becoming more and more faint as she went further down the corridor.  Breathing in deeply, she sought to locate the direction in which the footsteps thudded clearest.  Her eyelids flew up as she realized, shocked, that the noise was not growing softer but rapidly increasing in volume.  For a moment it was quiet enough for her to listen to her own racing heart beat against her chest.

            Then it hit her.  _Hard._

            With a harsh cry more of shock than pain, Riku lurched forward, her face screwing up in anticipation of being smashed into the stone floor—only to be stopped mere milliseconds before.  Gasping, her eyes jerked open to stare first at the ground, so close that if she bent down a little bit more, the tip of her nose would just skim the top of a well-rounded, well-smoothed stone, then at the two arms completely covered with soft black fabric wrapped tightly around her waist.

            "Are you okay?"  The voice was slightly muffled, though its low, almost husky tone undeniably classified it as male.  She felt herself being hoisted up, and, pressed against the man's chest, she could once again stand on her own two feet.

            It took her all of five seconds before her position registered in her mind, and she began to struggle violently in the stranger's firm, strong hold.  "Ah!  Let go of me you pervert, or I won't hesitate to scream!"

            "W-Wait!  Stop!"  A hand clamped down on her mouth just as she was opening it, effectively cutting off her supply of air and sound.

            With tremendous force, Riku shoved the palm of her captive's hand into her mouth, and mercilessly bit down on the unguarded skin; a tangy, coppery taste on her tongue informed her that not only had she succeeded in tearing flesh, but drawing blood as well—something that immediately made the stranger loosen his grasp on her and clutch his wounded hand to his body, moaning.

            Riku took this opportunity to slip from the man's arms, and, standing several paces away, glared down at his crouching form.  She noticed with a humorless smirk that he was garbed in all black from the feet up, which efficiently concealed the man's features.  _Like a spy,_ Riku thought darkly.

            "Who.  Are.  You?" she said coldly, eyes like steel.  Her face hardened when she caught sight of the tiny rectangular bundle strapped to the man's back.  A thief?  But what could this man steal that was worthwhile?  The Haradas had never really had any important treasures that would turn the heads of thieves…

            "Sorry but I can't tell you that!"

            Eyes blinking, Riku gazed at the empty space in front of her with disbelief; spinning around, she found the man sprinting down the long corridor.  She gritted her teeth and ran after him, all the while berating herself for being so stupid as to stand around and do nothing while a thief was kneeling right before her—helpless and unarmed, too, from the looks of it.

            "Wait!  Come back here!"

            He was fast; by the time she had turned the next corner, the man was already halfway down the corridor.  She needed something that would slow him down…there!  Grabbing the empty tray placed beside a door while she ran past, Riku judged their distances, and hoping fervently that it would not suddenly shift to the side, she aimed and flung the tray with all her might.

            The tray sliced through the air with so much speed that it was only a tiny, whirling blur to Riku's eyes, then, dipping low, as it was thrown at a slight angle, it skidded loudly the rest of the way across the floor.  One of the man's feet, which had been raised in midair, fell unluckily on the tray and he tripped, falling forward while the force behind his sprint shot the tray a ways backward.  At the last moment, both his hands darted out, despite the fact that one obviously pained him to use, and he pushed himself back up on his feet.

            That moment though had caused him everything as Riku used those precious couple seconds to close the distance between them and tackle him to the ground.  Instantly the person began to thrash about, and Riku, puffing, was starting to find it extremely difficult to keep him within her grasp.

            "Give—back—stuff—" she panted, attempting to use one arm to reach around his back for the bundle, but the instant her hand fell from him, the man broke away, although one of her arms were still looped heavily around his waist.

            "Sorry—can't—"  Even through the wave of exhaustion that was quickly sweeping over her body, Riku managed a  smug smirk—so the man was tired, eh?  Good, maybe that would give the guards an easier time with capturing this thief.  _No,_ she thought, mentally shaking her head, _I'll catch this person myself—I don't need anybody else's help._

            With renewed strength, Riku threw her spare arm about his waist, but instead of encountering soft fabric, her hand brushed against an object, and the feel as she touched it was numbingly cold.  Fiercely, she yanked at the thing, and it slid from its casing with such ease that she actually tumbled backward—allowing the man a short amount of time to break and run away from her.

            While he ran, he turned his head back and called out, if not a little breathlessly,  "Sorry if I hurt you!"

            "Ah!  Stop! Thief!"  By the time she had gotten up and followed the path she had seen him take, he was gone.  There were no doors on this corridor, and neither were there any tapestries where there might've been a secret passage.  She checked the corridors connecting to this one, but none of them revealed a man in all black.  It was as if he had turned to thin air.  Disappeared.  How anyone could be so fast, Riku wondered, slumping against the nearest wall, was beyond her.

            She dropped to the ground, back against the wall, and attempted to salvage as much oxygen as she could within shallow gasps of air.  Her throat felt like it was on fire, and her aching arms were not in any better conditions.  Aware that she was completely drenched in sweat and how "immodest" she looked as of the moment, Riku grinned weakly when she imagined how horrified her younger sister would be when she came back into their room appearing like this.  Well, that would mean she would just have to take care to avoid Risa for a while, a feat that was easily accomplished since Risa was almost always out with her ring of friends.

            Pushing away a strand of auburn-colored hair plastered to her forehead, her eyes rested on the object she had pulled from the thief's belt, though quite on accident.  It was a dagger, she noticed with some surprise, but it was unlike any other.  For one, the hilt itself was of pure, solid gold, and the blade was keen as death, polished to the point where her own features could be seen sharply on the glassy surface, which seemed to gleam softly with a faint, silvery luminescence.  And engraved on the pommel of the dagger was an image that could be nothing but a crest: the sun, gold and split in an exact, precise half-circle, lay suspended underneath a horizon jagged with a single frost-covered mountain and a tiny ring of trees round its circumference.

            Puzzled, she pondered over where she had seen this crest before, or if she had ever seen it.  It was not on this land she knew for sure.  Conjuring all the books on foreign countries she had read to mind in her mother's library, which had never accumulated more than about ten books, Riku skimmed through the information she had gathered, but in the end she shook her head as she realized that she couldn't remember reading of a crest with the image of a sunset and a mountain surrounded by trees.

            What time was it now, she wondered, startled.  How long had she been here chasing down that man?  Mother would be furious that she had let such a criminal escape…yet what exactly had been in that bundle?  A box?  A portrait?

            Riku put a hand to her forehead, sighing tiredly.  Too many questions in her head right now, and she was feeling horrible.

            "Riku?  Rikuuu!  Where are you?"

            She froze, paralyzed on the spot.  When the light from a candle glowed from the end of the corridor however, all thought left her mind and she bolted like a frightened deer, shooting past the person and down the next passage.

            "Hey!  Wait!  Who are you?"  The familiar voice sent chills down her spine, and the fear of being caught lent her wings—in no time at all she was back out in the open courtyard, sunlight warming her shivering body from head to toe.  Taken aback, Riku saw that only about an hour had passed since noon, judging from the position of the sun.  She had thought at least two or three hours had gone by…

            "Rikuuu?  Is that youuu?"

            Jumping, startled, she ran quickly back into the building and headed towards the room she shared with her twin sister, certain of where she was going now that she was no longer lost in the maze of corridors.  As soon as she was in the room, she bolted the door and sprinted for the bathroom, latching the locks to that door as well.  Riku breathed a quick sigh of relief; Risa couldn't follow her here unless she had her keys with her, which Riku knew for sure was hung up on a peg beside her bed.

            Glancing around the room, it appeared as though the servants had only come about here recently.  To her right the hearth, used for warming the water, still housed a tiny fire, and above it hovered a bucket the height of her arm from her elbow down, filled to the brim with, estimating from the curling tendrils of steam rising up, hot water.  The water in the tub used for bathing too looked as if warm, for the area above was hazy with a light steam.  Right beside it was a smaller tub used for cleansing one's self before bathing: washing before entering the baths kept the water clean, so that the water could be reused whenever someone else wished to bathe.

Shedding her garments and placing them and the dagger on a wooden box near the entrance, she fished the bucket out of the hearth and padded across the marble floor towards the smaller tub, which had been dried of even the tiniest drops of water.  She set the bucket on top a counter and proceeded to cleanse herself.  Finished, she dried herself with a clean towel, then slipped into the larger tub.

            The water was warm, bordering on hot, and Riku found herself nodding off.  At the last moment, she shook her head to dispel her sleepiness.  She stumbled out the tub, though not without little reluctance, and pulled on a fresh linen undershirt and pants folded neatly on the counter.  Once dressed and clean, Riku unlocked both the bathroom and chamber door and, after storing the gold-hilted dagger in a box enforced with a lock, she slid underneath the covers of her bed and sighed contentedly, the stranger for the moment forgotten.

            She fell asleep in a matter of seconds.

~~~~~~~

            Riku must have slept for hours because by the time she woke, the sun, seen through a window facing the west, had already sunk almost completely below the forest on the horizon.  Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, Riku stared unseeing out the window, still slightly fatigued, but thoughts turned inwards as she recalled the events that had happened earlier today.  Where was that thief now…?

            A knock sounded on the oaken door, and then, without waiting for a reply, her younger sister stepped into the room, closing the door softly behind her.  Riku acknowledged her with a small grin, but questions soon bombarded her again and she, absorbed in her reflections, averted her gaze to once again stare out the window.  She didn't even say anything when Risa, pale, sat down heavily on her bed.

            "Nee, Riku…" uttered Risa after a while, twiddling her thumbs.  "Mother came back just now, Father too…"

            "Did he?"  Riku's voice was vague, distant.

            "But…"

            "But…?"  Now all her attention was focused on her sister.

            "Something's wrong with Mother, I think," Risa whispered.  "Shortly after she went into her chamber she stormed out, and _never_ in my whole _life_ have I seen her so furious.  She was muttering something about a portrait being stolen, I believe, from what Father told me.  That portrait must have been extremely precious because as of right now, Mother is turning the entire household upside down looking for the thing, and nobody seems to be able to stop her, not even _Father."_

            The blood drained from her face as soon as Riku heard the words "portrait" and "stolen".  Immediately the image of the man came to mind, and she connected two and two together.

            "Where is Mother right now?" Riku questioned hastily, tumbling out of bed.  She thrust open the doors to her wardrobe and grabbed the nearest pair of trousers and tunic she could find, slipping them quickly over her body, not even bothering to remove her undergarments.  

            "In the courtyard, probably," Risa replied.  "Where are you going with that thing?"  She eyed the locked box in her arms with curiosity.  Her face lit up hopefully.  "That's not the portrait, is it?"

            Riku shook her head, and Risa's expression fell, disappointed.

            "Wait, where are you going?"  The girl trailed in her wake as she departed from their quarters.

            "The courtyard—where else?"

            The distance between their room and the courtyard was almost non-existent; they were there by the time it had taken Riku to slip on her garments.  Just as Risa had predicted, the mother of the two sisters and the lady of the country of Syr, Harada Urami, was raging about the area, barking orders out at any misfortunate person that happened to chance across her field of vision.  The sight of their mother, always so calm and serene, turned into this rampaging demon of a monster, chilled both of their streams of blood to ice.

            "Who's there?" hissed the lady of Syr, whirling on them the instant they each took a step forward.  For a moment the lady's eyes caught sight of the box enclosed in Riku's arms, and the lady's face lit up in hope, reaching out hesitantly with a pale, slender arm,  "Is that—is that the portrait?  Did you find it?"

            "No, Mother," Riku swallowed thickly, "but I saw who took it."

            "You saw who took it?" her mother dug her fingers in her shoulders, and Riku winced.  "Come, child, do not waste my time!  _Who stole the portrait?"_

            "A man," Riku gasped out, for her mother's grip had increased on her tenfold.  White-hot stars danced in front of her vision.

            "Where is he?" the lady hissed.  "I'll _kill_ him!"

            "Gone—Mother."

            "Gone?" the lady's voice was suddenly deathly quiet,  "What do you mean 'gone'?"

            "He—he has escaped from here.  I do not know where he has went to."

            "You let him go?"  Eyes like cold fire burned into pale red.

            "No, Mother," Riku said, staring straight into the lady's eyes, unflinching.  Inside though she was quaking, shaking in anticipation of the lady's next words.  "He collided into me during his escape: on his back I saw a bundle that was shaped undoubtedly like a painting.  I managed to delay him for a little while, but in the end he escaped with the portrait."

            "Was he stopped not by the guards?"

            "I do not believe so, Mother, for I did not call for them."

            Her mother's mouth curved up in a pleasant smile as she asked, "And why did you not, my child?"

            "I-I thought I could stop him myself."  Now her legs were beginning to wobble, even though she did her best to hide it.

            "You _idiot_ for a child!"

            Her mother lunged for her throat, but Risa, who had somehow gotten behind Urami during their talk, grappled her firmly round the waist, for which Riku was eternally grateful, and tugged her wrestling form back, crying,  "Stop it, Mother!"

            "Let me go, you fool!  Let me go!  As your mother I command this!"

            Amidst the struggling, Riku had produced the key quickly from her pocket, and she had shakily unfastened the box, saying in a clear voice,  "But I took this from him while he was fleeing, Mother.  There's something engraved on the pommel."

            Both mother and daughter gradually ceased to struggle at the sight of the gold-hilted dagger.  Risa's arms loosened significantly on their mother's waist as she gaped at the beautifully polished yet incredibly deadly object.  Wordlessly, Urami picked up the dagger from inside the box and examined it closely in the dying light.  Not a word was spoken as the lady bent intently over the inanimate object.

            Finally, just as the rest of the sun disappeared below the horizon, the lady spoke.  "I know of the man who stole my portrait—or at least, the family in which he originated.  Risa," the lady said sharply, turning abruptly on her heels.  "Come with me.  I have something I must tell you, and I wish not to say it out in the open where there may be sets of prying eyes and ears about."

            "Y-Yes, Mother," stuttered the startled girl, running hastily after her mother, who had already almost crossed half the courtyard.

            "And Riku," the lady turned to look back for a split second, and the light in her glittering eyes seized Riku's heart like a clenched fist.  "You have done well, my child.  Return to your room and wait there until I call upon you."

            Motionlessly she watched the lady, followed by a stumbling girl, sweep through the entrance to the household and disappear within, silent as a wraith.  A biting wind surged by—already the first traces of autumn were beginning to show.

            Riku remained outside for a minute longer, shivering in the cold.  Then she too turned on heels and entered the household.

~~~~~~~

            It was a long time before Risa returned to their room, or at least to Riku, who sat silently by the window, waiting, it seemed like a long time.  In actuality, only a few minutes had passed since the encounter in the courtyard.

            When Risa came back, there was nothing to signify her return except for the quiet creak of the door as her sister slipped in.  Quickly, Riku rushed to her side, but upon seeing her, she blanched.  Risa, usually so rosy, was pale and frighteningly cold to the touch.  Her hair, which was her pride and joy, fell disheveled and limp down her back.  The dress she wore, colorful and rich, was crumpled and appeared dim to the eyes, for there was neither smile nor grin to accompany its astounding array of hues.

            But what frightened Riku the most were the younger girl's eyes—blank and glazed they were, without a spark of life.  It was as if someone had ripped out her soul, and all that was left was her body, a mere shell of what had been of the spirited, smiling girl that had existed but moments ago.

            "Risa, what's—" started Riku, but was cut off with a shake of the head from Risa, who swayed drunkenly towards the chair that she had just occupied.  Riku stepped forward to assist her, but once again Risa firmly shook her head.

            When finally the girl was situated in the seat, staring as she did out the window, she spoke, in a quiet voice, "Mother wishes to see you.  She will explain everything to you."

            _Explain what? _Riku wished to ask, but said nothing, gazing worriedly into Risa's dull brown eyes.  Silently, she slipped from the room, shutting the door carefully behind her, and proceeded to walk to her mother's chamber, which was positioned on the second floor, far to the east of the household; once, Riku recalled, she had mentioned that she hated the sight of the sunset, and had relocated her quarters facing the rising of the sun.  That had been about several years ago, and nothing had changed since then.

            Could it have been she hated the sunset because of what it had stood for on that crest—some family off the island?  But how could Mother possibly know about such things?  Never once had Riku seen her mother take a step off this dismal land covered with forest and surrounded by ocean…

            With a start, Riku realized that she was standing in front of her mother's chamber.  She knocked three times on the door, gently, and then waited patiently for the lady of Syr to admit her in.

            "Who is it?" came a deep voice within.

            "It is I, Riku, Mother."

            "Come in and be quick about it, child."

            "Yes, Mother," she said, opening the door and stepping inside the dimly lit room.  A single candle burned low in a holder etched with symbols on a table near the area in which the lady Urami sat, and it served as the only source of illumination, throwing all the other objects in the room in restless shadows.

            "What is it you wished to talk to me of, Mother?" Riku inquired, politely, and bowed lowly from the waist as required of all men and women, regardless of status.

            Slowly, the lady Urami turned towards her, eyes glittering with a mad light, and spoke to her as if to a child, deliberately pronouncing each word with care, "Your sister is to be married to a man from another country in the next week, and _you,_ Riku," she said with a smile that instantly paralyzed her inside and out, "are to accompany her."

~~~~~~~

**Author's notes/rants:**  Hey hey!  The second chapter took much less time than the first, nee?  *grins*  I'm growing to love this story more and more as I write on.  ^_^  Yes, finally this story is going somewhere—the first chapter was basically a filler that explained the properties of nightshade.  Gods I love that word…nightshade.  It just sounds so dark and so fun!  (Yes, I am slightly morbid, if you're wondering)  ^_^  Well, see you guys later!  As of right now, I'm dying of lack of sleep from the past few months (stupid summer vacation  ^_^), so I'm off.  The usual comments, suggestions, or criticism is always welcome!  ^_^

Question: Do any of you guys know the birth dates of Riku and Risa?  Or Daisuke for that matter?  I believe that Daisuke's birthday is sometime around spring, but as for the twins, I've not a clue. 

Oh yeah, I wanted to say thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed this story, or everyone who has just plain read it—it always makes me feel warm inside whenever I see a person actually reading my junk.  As long as I have one person reading and caring about my story, I will continue to write even if I myself no longer care about it, which, I swear to you, will _not_ happen with this story as it did to all my others.  *grins and waves*  Cya guys!

~Lucere

(8/9/03)


	4. Chapter 3: Eternal Bonds

Disclaimer:  All the characters from D.N.Angel and the manga/anime itself belong to Yukiru Sugisaki.  I am in no way taking credit for anything she has created, nor am I gaining profit in any way from writing this fanfiction story.  Thank you very much. 

**Chapter Three is Dedicated to:** My wonderful big sister, who is to go off to college in another week.

Soaring on Broken Wings Part One: Captured Chapter 3: Eternal Bonds 

            The lady Urami had always been beautiful; her fair, straight hair, her winter pale skin, her serenely curving lips, her rich mulberry eyes neither dull nor bright—everything about her seemed to radiate an immense beauty.  Even her actions, no matter how unnatural, appeared graceful to all.

            However, her magnificence did not end there.  Always was she calm, never rash in her decisions, and always did she put her duties to her country before her emotions at the expense of even her own family.  The people revered her and loved her, strewing her with praises of awe that rivaled even the worship the gods beheld.  In fact, because of her mortality, the lady Urami was all the more beloved to the people of the realm.

There was no inkling of doubt that to Syr, she was the pefect ruler—levelheaded, strong, and firmly tied to the ways.

            But now, now as the lady reclined in a chair draped luxuriantly in folds of mournful black, that flawless image began to crack.  With her fiery hair, wild and curled, rippling defiantly down her back and a malicious smirk cruelly twisting her once gently curved lips, she was no ruler of Syr.  Instead she was a woman whose scheming eyes glittered with a newfound light: the mad light of vengeance.

            To Riku, who had grown to love the lady as both mother and ruler, the sudden change was terrifying.  It rendered her speechless as the said woman abruptly stood up from her seat, and effortlessly glided towards her destination, for even though the woman had shed her title as Lady, still she retained that same innate grace that had enthralled the people of Syr.

            "Well, what say you, my child?" the lady purred, delicately fingering a white silk robe sprinkled with flowers.  "Have you no words of congratulations to say to your dear sister?"

            Riku was jerked violently from her stupor at the sound of the lady's smooth voice.  Her words from earlier came floating to memory: _Your sister is to be married to a man from another country in the next week…_

            Instantly she became enraged and protective, recalling her sister, pale and drained of life, staring dully out the window.  "Risa isn't even fourteen yet!" Riku exploded, hands clenched at her sides.  "She is much too young to marry!  I won't consent to it."

            "And who are _you_ to decide when or when not she is ready to be married?" snapped the lady, furious.  Even from across the room her mother seemed to tower above her, massive as a giant.  "I will not tolerate such foolish behavior around me; remember that you are in the presence of your mother and ruler, not some idiot of a girl you can order around."   Then her lips curled darkly in a feral smile, and Riku knew immediately that she had been dreadfully unwise in choosing her words.

            "But perhaps you are right, my dear, precious child," the lady said indulgently, stroking the flowers splattered on the gown, crimson like the color of blood in the flickering ring of light cast forth from the single smoking candle lit in the room.  "It would be unseemly of me to present my daughter so young and unripe to their only son, who is already a grown man, so I've heard.  No, it would be better to wait, say, four moons from now, on the midwinter solstice."

            Appalled, Riku exclaimed,  "But that would mean she would marry on the day of her fourteenth birthday!"

            "Precisely," said the lady mockingly.  "I'm glad to know that one of my children has some wits about her.  But," the lady smiled lazily, eyes half-lidded, "you'll be needing all those wits about you when it comes to what _you_ will have to be doing."

            "Me, Mother?" Riku was beginning to wish that she were thousands of miles away from this place, away from this terrifying demon of a woman whom she was forced to call "Mother".

            The lady shifted her glittering gaze on her form, amused.  "Of course, child—did you think you would not be punished for the crime you have committed?"  Then all traces of her smile disappeared, and her voice was deathly serious, though the mad light in her eyes did not fade.

            "I have told you before, Riku, that you are to accompany Risa on her wedding—this will not change.  However, it will not be for the pleasure of being sister to the bride.  Oh no, far from it.  I have for you a mission that if you fail, I will personally slit your throat and hang you in the middle of the village for all to see."  Riku's face drained of color; she knew without a doubt that, looking square into her mulberry depths, her mother would indeed do such a deed without a moment's hesitation.

            "Your mission," continued her mother, coolly, "is quite simple, really: retrieve the portrait that was stolen."

            "But," Riku said, swallowing thickly, asking the question the lady knew she would ask, "How would I retrieve it?"

            "Ah, now _that_ will be the fun part," said the lady, that cruel smirk beginning to tug at the corners of her mouth once more.  "You see, in order for the family to never suspect a thing from you, you must first earn their trust.  Whatever methods you use to obtain that trust I care not—only that you do.

            "Then, it will only be a matter of loosening one's tongue.  Your sister will presumably be most suited for this job, for after all she is to be the man's wife and it is only natural that she would be curious about the layout of the household.  Once the information is leaked to her, she will pass it onto you, and you will carry out your mission.  Alone.

            "When you accomplish what you set out for—and I expect it to be done before the wedding—you and your sister will lure him to this island, saying that you wish only for him to meet his wife's dear mother.  And meet her he will," the lady cackled shrilly, pupils dilating, "But it will not be the girl's wife he faces but the lady of Syr!  I as Lady will bestow upon him the punishment he rightfully deserves for his treacherous thievery: a slow, torturous death that will make him _beg_ for the merciful release of a slit of a dagger."

            There was a long, revolted silence that crawled for minutes upon minutes in which Riku neither moved nor spoke.  Then she shattered the silence, saying disgustedly, "I nor Risa will go along with your filthy plan, _Mother._  I will retrieve the portrait as you wish, for there I am to blame, but I certainly will not play this man straight into your hands.  I do not even know who this man is, or what the portrait you speak so highly of is, for that matter."

            "What the portrait is is of no concern of yours," clipped the lady as she gripped a smooth sleeve of the silken robe.  "Only that it is ours and can be proven by the initials of my name etched on the back of the canvas.  As for the man your sister is to be engaged to," the lady arched a dark, elegant eyebrow, the tension eased from her as quickly as the sleeve was smoothed of rumples by a long pale hand, "I suppose it wouldn't hurt for you to know some things about him, seeing as you'll be the one stealing from him."

            Disregarding Riku's narrowed gaze, the lady replied to her previous statement, sighing.  "The man's name is Daisuke, Niwa Daisuke if you will.  I would have had your sister marry the lord if possible, but the lord is already wedded, and I suppose the lord's only child wouldn't hurt.  He comes from a long line of rulers in the city of Cirath, located in the country Cerawyn, which, you should know, is off to the west, if you've keeping up to date with your studies," said her mother, sliding her a side long glance.  A ghost of a smile touched the lady's lips, and, for a moment, the uncanny resemblance it bore to the woman at old was so achingly familiar that Riku felt a lump of heartfelt emotion growing within her throat.  Then the fleeting smile was wisped away and all that remained was a fine network of lines gathered taunt about a thin, ironically curled mouth.

            "How do I know him?" the lady coolly assessed from Riku's look.  "Well, let's just say I've had 'problems' with this—" she held up the crest-engraved dagger "—particular family not a while ago.  It was irritating to say the least, but in the end it all worked out."

            "Anyway," drawled the lady, before Riku could say anything.  The lady returned to her former seat, robe still in hand, and Riku saw amusement dancing like the tiny fire flickering above the wax-dripping candle within her mulberry eyes.  "How do you propose you will retrieve the portrait, my child, without resorting to my 'filthy plan' in any way?  Surely you don't mean to _ask_ for it back?"

            Riku paled; she had dwelled no longer on the subject than she had of her mother's tactics of retrieval.  She opened her mouth, and closed it, and opened her mouth again, this time muttering in a low voice,  "I—I'll think up of something.  I'll get it back."

            "I certainly hope you won't fail me again though," the lady said, mockingly, and Riku's cheeks burned red in shame and anger.  Then she shrugged and said,  "Well, do whatever you believe is best.  As I have mentioned before, I care not for the details, only that it is returned to me safe and sound."

            "Whatever you say, Mother," Riku replied coolly, a note of cold distain creeping into her voice when her mother failed to mention the safety of either of her daughters, whose blood seemed to account for nothing against a rectangular piece of dead wood.  Unbeknownst to her, the first rift between mother and daughter was beginning to form.

            "If you have no more you wish to say to me, Mother, then I will be taking my leave."  When her mother, toying absently with a stray seam that had loosened from the snowy fabric, said nothing in reply, Riku dipped her head stiffly and made to exit the chamber.  The lady interrupted her just as she was taking a halting step beyond the narrow doorway, however.  Her voice, smooth yet sharp like the edge of a whetted dagger, resonated with a tone that left no room for argument.

            "Riku, inform your sister to prepare her things.  You yourself will need to pack your things as well.  In one week hence, both you and your sister will board a boat bounded for the country Cerawyn.  Do not worry about appearing as strangers before the throne—before you depart I will give you a token which will leave no doubts concerning your identity.  Also, take this," the lady said, gliding across the room and depositing the crimson-sprinkled robe in Riku's hands.  "Proper marriage garments for your sister."

            Riku's eyes widened a quarter of a fraction; they slowly trailed down to take in the sight of the white robe.  Although she could not see it, Riku had not a trickle of suspicion that her mother was smiling down at her with those glittering eyes.

            Riku tried one last time.  "Risa should not marry to anyone unless she thinks herself ready or her husband-to-be suitable, which will not happen if that man is a stranger."

            "Ready?  Ha!" the lady gave a short laugh that held no trace of mirth.  "I was hardly fourteen myself when I was shipped off to some man I never knew.  At least your sister will be given time to adjust before the marriage; for my wedding I was forced into a gown and thrown into the arms of my husband."

            "You didn't even know who Father was before you married?"  Surprise made Riku's voice falter.

            "Of course not," scoffed her mother.  "It was an arranged marriage.  Just like Risa's.  Only Risa's will serve another purpose—to secure an alliance."

            "Secure an alliance?"  Now Riku's eyes were wide as saucers.  "This isn't just for the portrait?"

            "Of course not," repeated the lady, a sharp edge in her voice informing Riku that she was quickly tiring of her questions.  "This marriage was already planned out long before you and your sister were born.  The portrait only gives me reason to actually carry it out."

            Questions whirled like a raging hurricane within her buzzing head.  "Wait a minute, Mother.  What do you mean by the marriage already being planned out before we were born?"

            "Enough!" the lady's voice was as cold and hard as the marble in Riku's bathroom floor.  "I tire of this mindless chatting.  I give you until the eve of your sister's wedding to retrieve my portrait; that amount of time, ranging more or less between four and four and a half months from now, should be plenty enough to get under the Niwas' skin."

            Ice.  "I told you I would not go along with your plan, and I intend to keep my word."

            "So you say."  Riku heard the soft rustle of clothing.  "Well, if there is anything you or your sister wish to bring along on your journey that you do not already have, you need only to ask."  Although the words seemed kind and thoughtful, the dry voice that spoke them banished all thoughts of compassion from a listener's mind.

            Riku smiled thinly.  "You are most kind, Mother.  However, we will be needing nothing more than what we have in our room."  Once again she inclined her head the smallest of fractions.  Then, hearing not a whisper, she walked swiftly down the hall.  Lining both sides of her vision were walls fashioned of stone, so cleverly created that each stone used was fitted perfectly against the curve of another without the use of any supporting materials.  There were no depressions in the walls however to indicate the markings of a door.

            Pausing at the end of the corridor, Riku stood listening to the clear voice echoing off the walls.  As the words reached her ears, she smiled grimly and continued to thud her way back to the room she shared with her younger sister.  The words echoed dully within her head:

            "Be careful, Riku."

~~~~~~~

            The crimson-rimmed sun sunk beneath the forest tops, and the soft rose that had mingled lightly with the dark green of leaves gradually dimmed to hushed pink.  Overhead indigo seeped slowly into a wind-swept sky studded with brilliant stars—an inverted lush, sweeping field embedded with a myriad of merrily twinkling gems.

            The quiet flap of wings, the gentle whisper of air passing through leaves, the occasional hoot of an owl calling out triumphantly as it grappled its prey—the sounds of nature, beautiful and unchanged, soothed Riku's heart even as it eased the wrinkles from her forehead.  A sort of serene calm settled over her shoulders, lending her the strength and courage to continue her flow of words.

            "…Mother has told me that we are to leave next week.  Pack your things and—"

            "I'm not going."  The words were softly spoken, but they rang out as loudly and clearly as if they had been shouted.  Each syllable seemed to fill the room entirely, increasing in volume and force, until the mouth abruptly stopped working, and the words reluctantly died away in the silence of evening.

            Riku regarded the sudden change in her sister's manner with startled eyes.  No longer was Risa the pale, fragile doll staring lost outside the window.  Instead she was a girl whose flushed cheeks heated with life and whose blazing eyes flashed in stubborn determination.  Her jaw grew hard and set in defiance while her shoulders rose from their slumped position and squared.  Mouth thinned into a grim line, her sister was every bit as intimidating as a fully armored knight riding out to war intent on living and returning to his loved ones.

            Squeezing her eyes shut and opening them again, Riku forced her next words out.  "If you have anything you wish to say, Risa, say it to Mother, not me.  I couldn't do anything to cancel the engagement—I only managed to succeed in delaying it four months."

            _"Four months?"_ spluttered Risa, shocked.  Her stricken eyes collided with Riku's—and suddenly, Riku felt like breaking down and weeping right then and there.  "How…how _could_ you, Riku?" Risa breathed.  The betrayal and pain swimming in Risa's dark brown eyes lanced straight through her own heart like no spear could ever do.  "How could you prolong my suffering, Riku?  How _could_ you when waiting even one _week_ was horrible enough?"

            "I thought—I thought that maybe…maybe if I delayed your wedding," Riku, voice choked, fumbled for words, "you would get to know the person better and be happier when you married."

            "But what if I don't like this person?"  Risa's eyes grew bitter and cold; ice was beginning to solidify within her brown depths, slowly freezing what little warmth remained of her love for her.  "Then I would have to live through four months of _hell _wouldn't I?"  Riku winced, as if struck, as her sister barked a harsh, short laugh completely devoid of mirth.

            Her legs could no longer support her.  Sliding limply to the cold stone floor, Riku squeezed her eyes shut and whispered, pained, "Oh, Risa, I'm so sorry.  I didn't mean…I never realized…I'm so sorry, Risa…" She trailed off chokingly, no longer able to finish.

            There was an agonizing silence that lingered for minutes, as deafening as the roar of foaming water crashing upon sand and jagged rock.  Then Risa let out a strangled cry and threw her arms round Riku's shoulders, startling her pale eyes open.  With a shaky gasp filled with so much relief that Risa actually began to weep, Riku crushed her sister fiercely against her chest and whispered above the top of her head apologies over and over again.  At that single moment, nothing could describe the love in which Riku felt for her little sister; it seeped through every fiber of her body and tingled with a warmth that left Riku breathless and dizzy.

            Eventually Risa raised her head from Riku's shoulder and managed a weak smile.  "Sorry Riku.  I know it wasn't your fault.  All you did was try to help."  She then shrugged and sighed longing.  Risa had always been able to change her moods fairly quickly, Riku thought, relieved, seeing her melancholy eyes light up with a sparkle.  "But who knows?  Maybe I'll end up falling in love with this Daisu-whatever-his-name-is.  After all, he _is_ the son of a lord who is the ruler of a major country."  Swooning the girl indulged in her whimsical fantasies.  "Ahhh, I hope that he's really handsome and strong, able to sweep me clean off my feet, yet at the same time being very gentle with me.  He'll whisper words of love to me everyday, and kiss me, and we'll always be together, night or day.  Oh and it would be even more wonderful if he had a touch of mystery about him, as if he were a thief or something, and he would slip out unseen during the dead of night to steal priceless treasures.  Ahhh!" Risa sighed once more, her dreamy eyes faraway.   "If only someone like this did exist…"

            Riku smiled softly at her little sister; once again her heart burst with that tingling, warm feeling.  Just as quickly as Risa had been brought to anger she had forgiven, despite the horrendous weight that Riku had unknowingly deposited upon her.  And now, even though a new weight had descended heavily on her slim shoulders, she continued to smile and dream, looking ahead to the future with such optimistic cheer that Riku's cheeks scorched with shame.

            Hesitantly, drawing in a deep breath and releasing it with a shudder, Riku asked, breaking the girl from her dazed state, "Risa, will you…will you still go along with the engagement?"

            There was a moment's pause before Risa, smiling sadly, replied, "I don't have a choice, do I?  Even if I do try to run away or something I can't do it without Mother's permission; she's the only person on this island who has access to anything resembling a boat.  I can't make one either, seeing as I don't know how and we aren't allowed to leave the castle for any reason.  In the end, I would be forced into marrying this person, whether I wanted to or not.

            "But it'll be okay," she said smilingly, instantly brightening, "because I'll have you with me the whole entire time, right Riku?"

            There was a quick movement of the arms and Riku, tightly crushing her sister to herself, vowed fiercely, "Always, Risa.  _Always._"

            "I'm glad…" sighed Risa.  Then she said, jokingly, "Gee, Riku, aren't you hugging me a lot lately?"

            No answer.

            "…Riku?"  She raised her eyes upward, and instantly her mouth dipped as low as a chasm.  "Riku, are you…are you…"  She could not finish the sentence.

            "No I'm not!" Riku flung back hastily and abruptly, scrubbing furiously at her eyes.  Quickly she rose and threw herself into the bathing room, stumbling more often than running.  The door was slammed behind her with a _bang_ that shook the very objects of the long four-sided room, massive though many of them were.  Despite Riku's fervent protest, Risa curiously peered down.

            A single, wet substance lay gleaming softly on the cold, stone floor.

            Risa smiled and began packing.

~~~~~~~

            "It's so _cold_!" whined Risa through clattering teeth, clutching at her thin slip of a cloak.  "Why couldn't we have gone _after_ the sun rose?"

            "Because after the rain from the day before a mist sprung up, and Mother told us to go in the shelter of the mist while we could," Riku reiterated for the third time, looking pointedly at the immensely dense curtain of white draped all around them.  She sighed, unclasped her own thick woolen cloak, and offered it to Risa, who promptly snatched it from her hands and wound it tightly about herself.

            Glaring at Riku, Risa said sullenly, "Why aren't _you_ cold, Riku?  I feel numb and frozen all over while you look perfectly content and warm."

            "It's because you're wearing those thin clothes," Riku said dryly.  She glanced fleetingly at the garments Risa had specifically chosen for the journey: a light breezy silk dress with a gauzy, shimmering covering floating delicately above.  Belted at the waist with a loosely flowing sash and with a mantle, whose density was almost as great as the covering, settled neatly over her shoulders, Risa looked every inch like a lady prepared for a most joyous festival.  Unfortunately, they were currently traversing leagues upon leagues of deep ocean, and were just about as far away from civilization as three people who were thrust on the apex of a mountain swathed in numbingly cold clouds could be.  Which made Riku wonder at Risa's choice of clothing in the first place.  "At least your leather boots are suited for traveling," Riku noted, with some surprise.

            "Oh be quiet Riku," grumbled Risa, rubbing her hands together in an effort to obtain heat.  "How was I supposed to anticipate that it was going to be _this_ cold?  I thought that the sun would have been up by the time I had finished dressing.  I didn't think that _this_—" she shot a hateful glare at the surrounding mist "—would've been here though."

            "Can't you change into a different set of clothes?" Riku suggested.  Their bags—two Risa's and one hers, although Risa would have brought more if she could—lay tossed in a heap near the rear of the compact boat, built more for speed than for transportation.  With the bow, the front part of the boat, curving sharply from the bottom of the vessel up and two long oars dipping into the surface in a swift, steady pattern, the boat was rapidly progressing through the tranquil waters of the Lucidia, the ocean in which all land was surrounded by.

            "Can't.  _Father_'s here, remember?" said Risa, jabbing a finger at the person, Lord Urwin of Syr, slaving away at the boat.  He was a man with keen features: an angular chin, a pointed nose, quick long fingers that darted about the area with always a purpose, a thin set of lips carved into a triangular face of utmost severity.  His earth brown eyes, however, betrayed his true emotions as they twinkled merrily from beneath dark eyebrows.  Shortly after a wide smile followed, and the tight lines drawn about his mouth softened, miraculously transforming the grim image of the man into one of amazing cheerfulness.

            "Don't mind me," said their father, grinning.  "Just pretend I'm not here."

            "Kind of hard to do when you're staring right at me though," Risa retorted sourly, hurling a sharp glare at the man that bespoke of murder.  In reply he flashed her an innocent smile, which only strove to make Risa seethe with an anger that lashed out like a flaming whip against her target, who whistled innocently while still managing to propel the vessel forward with smooth, even strokes.  At least, Riku thought smilingly, Risa didn't seem cold anymore; a deep flush had quickly overtaken her slightly blue pallor from earlier.

            Gazing out into the surrounding screen of wispy white upon darkened blue, Riku shut out her father and Risa's bickering voices and slowly turned her thoughts inward.  Clasped loosely in one of her hands—the other held the gold-hilted dagger—was the token the lady of Syr had given her—a tiny silver ring bearing a miniature copy of the crest of the golden sunset and frosted mountain ringed with trees.  The precious stone in which it was set upon was scarcely the size of one of her fingernails, and she marveled at the meticulously fashioned image, precisely drawn down to the last line.

            But, once again, the question came to mind: how did her mother come to possess such a thing?  She had never had a fondness for jewelry nor the world outside of Syr, for she rarely left even the castle unless for an emergency.

            A sudden thought struck her.  The thief…the thief she had collided with…how could he have had known exactly when to reach Syr without succumbing to the tides?  And the forest?  Unless he was born in Syr, there was absolutely no way he could have known that on the four days of the new moon, when the man chose to unexpectedly appear in Syr, the waters relented and grew calm while the forest seemed to enter a state of deep slumber.  Those four days alone were the only times when Syr was completely accessible to the outside world, but not a trickle of that knowledge had ever been leaked outside of Syr, for even if the Lady Urami's threats went unheeded, still the people, loving of solitary and quiet life, would not bare the information to strangers, exceedingly rare though they were.

            A shipwreck then?  No, that couldn't have been.  The thief had come with a purpose.  It couldn't have been mere coincidence that he'd slipped into the castle, taken exactly what Riku surmised he wanted, and just as easily slipped out, unnoticed save for Riku.  And even then their meeting had been a result sprung purely from chance.

            So the man was obviously familiar with the surroundings and landscape of Syr.  How else could he have taken something from the _lady of Syr_'s chamber without alerting the presence of a guard or servant?  Riku's mother had mentioned that she knew the family he belonged to, so could that have possibly meant that she had either met him or one of the other Niwa members before, and informed them of the vulnerability of Syr?  But that thought seemed absurd; it was Urami herself who had issued forth a threat for silence.  Riku was beginning to feel the first stirrings of a headache.

            "Riku?" Risa's voice broke through her thoughts, and Riku turned, if not a little startled, to her sister beside her.  "About the thief…are you sure he's from that Niwa family Mother was talking about?"

            "What?"  Riku attempted to clear the haze from her mind.

            "I mean, are you sure that he's not some person working for some other family?  Like a mercenary or something?"

            "Mercenaries are men or women hired for their weapon skills, Risa," Riku pointed out.

            "Okay, so maybe not mercenaries, but some other type of person.  Pirates, maybe?  I don't know and it doesn't really matter.  My point is, what if that thief had been hired by another lord to steal Mother's portrait?  Judging from Mother's reaction, that thing must have been pretty valuable, so I'm pretty sure that some greedy lord wouldn't mind getting his hands on it."  Risa frowned pensively.  "But then again, it's practically impossible to get here without knowing when the tides and forest weaken.  And even if you do know those things, it's not an easy thing to slip inside Mother's castle unnoticed."  Risa paused, eyes suddenly narrowing.  "Wait a minute Riku, how on all of Syr did the thief determine the layout of Mother's castle, and, more importantly, figure out exactly when to search for this place?  I don't ever remember seeing a person from another country in Syr before…"

            Riku sighed and rubbed her temples.  "That's what I've been wondering.  I'm no closer to the answer than finding a way to fly though.  Well, we're probably just worrying too much about nothing—Mother _did_ say that she was familiar with the family.  Maybe they were friends…?"

            "Yeah, and friends steal from friends," said Risa sarcastically.  At Riku's incredulous look, she turned away and mumbled something under her breath.

            "What was that?" Riku asked, suspicion narrowing her pale eyes.  When her sister refused to enlighten her, Riku gave up, shrugging.  "Anyway, as for what you said earlier, I don't think you'll need to worry about who the thief was, Risa," she reassured the girl.  "Remember that crest?  Usually crests symbolize the identity of a kingdom—all the more so if found on various objects.  Like this dagger and ring for instance—" Riku held them up "—Both have the same exact images engraved in them.  That can only mean one thing…"

            Risa's long brown hair, tinted slightly with a natural pale red, swished slowly from side to side.  "I'm not so sure, Riku.  Anybody can create a picture of a sunset and a mountain with trees—even me, and you know that I'm not a great artist."

            "But not many people can afford to engrave it in gold or ruby," she told her.  "Think about it: gold and jewelry typically belong to the wealthy, and who else is more rich than the ruler of the country himself?  Besides, there's no doubt that Mother knows which family this person belongs or relates to, Risa.  For some obscure reason, she even had a ring whose insignia matched that of the dagger's perfectly."

            "I still don't know…"

            "The dagger's hilt was _gold_, Risa.  Pure, solid gold.  What do you make of that?  For that matter, why do you doubt that the man you are going to marry is the wrong person?"

            "Well, for one, it's not I really want to marry him, Riku."  Her sister ground out each word, clenching her hands into two white fists and slamming them against her lap.  "And for two, the whole reason why I'm marrying him in the first place is because of _you_, Riku.  Mother probably signed my life off to some horrible brute, and for what?  A stupid worthless portrait?  If you hadn't failed in retrieving the portrait, I wouldn't be here right now, cold, shivering, miserable on this piece of flattened wood drifting around who knows where in the middle of the largest body of water in the entire world."

            Riku drew back sharply, shocked and hurt.  It felt as if someone had taken a massive hammer and smashed her straight into the hard, grainy floor, like an ant trampled to the ground by the enormous boot of some malicious human.  She was aware of a strange prickling at the corner of her eyes, but she shoved the feeling away as quickly as it came, converting her pain into something she knew she could deal with: anger.  The white-hot emotion spread from one searing fingertip to the next; soon all she could see were tiny red spots dancing about in her line of vision.  It was all Riku could do to refrain from shouting.  Instead, she opted for a tone that would have frozen deserts.

            "I'm sure you could have done better at the time, Risa," Riku said mockingly, unthinkingly, and the girl visibly flinched.  "How was I supposed to have been prepared for something I wasn't suspecting, huh?  It's not like I knew what was in the bundle.  It could've been something valuable.  It could've not been.  How—was—I—supposed—to—know?

            "Also," she continued her tirade, "You make it seem as if I didn't even try to get the thing back.  Well I did, I tried as best I could.  You and Mother never even considered that though, did you?  All that seemed to be on Mother's mind was 'Oh, she didn't get the portrait, now she'll have to pay for it,' and the same thing seems to be on yours.  What about me?  Do you think _I_ was happy that I failed to retrieve it?  Do you think I _wanted_ to let him have the thing?  Do you think it doesn't kill me inside to know that my _one and only sister_ is getting married to some stranger she's never heard of all because _I _messed up?"

            Her mouth was parted; ragged breaths heaved from her shaking figure as quickly as ice melted under the sizzling glare of the desert sun.  The feeling of anger was dissipating, leaving in its wake a terrible emptiness that weighed like a boulder upon her spirit.  She felt so drained, so tired…so confused.  What was happening to her, to Risa?  One moment they were frolicking in the forest as carefree children, the next their mother, who had always been so patient and caring towards them, practically threw them across an ocean spanning leagues of landless blue to meet their destiny in a place as foreign as the worlds of fantasy.  But even then, Riku mused wearily, the worlds of fantasy could be molded into any thing you wanted in your mind, regardless of the fanciful descriptions an author provided for you in a book.  That was the beauty of fantasy: to create and to imagine whatever you wanted according to your own preferences, without the hindrances of fact or logic.  Yet this was reality, reality propelling her forward, not fantasy.  She could not change things with a single flick of the finger, or replace the unwanted image before her with a picture that suited her own needs.

            "I just want to let you know, Risa," Riku said, more quietly now, "If I could, I would do anything to take the burden off your shoulders."

            There was a soft whisper of movement and then Riku's thick cloak was draped about her and Risa both.  Cheek cushioned on Riku's shoulder, eyes closed, Risa said, just as subdued, "You promised me before that you would stay with me always, right Riku?  Then, could we not just share the burden together instead of one of us alone?  That is…if you're willing to forgive me first."

            "Agreed and agreed, though I don't see what there is to forgive."  Riku managed a small grin.  Relief threaded through her entire body and with it came that tingling feeling like no other again.  Without a word she laid her cheek against Risa's silky hair and closed her eyes, unaware of the fact that the lord of Syr, sitting wordlessly on the other side of them, was smiling contently as he gazed upon the two figures side by side, head pillowed against the other, each with a blissful smile that mirrored his own.

~~~~~~~~

            It was perhaps hours later that Riku and Risa, roused gently from their deep sleep by their father, stood up stiffly from their seats, muscles sore and backs aching, and took their first step on the country of Cerawyn.  If Riku had been expecting anything drastically different about the land of Cerawyn and her homeland, she was greatly disappointed.

            By now the mist had scattered, and the sun, angled between its rise and midday, cast warm, almost hot shafts of light on the brown, lifeless shore her booted feet stood uncertainly on.  Before her, a wide faded path wound its way steadily through a yellow-green plain that stretched as far as her wide eyes could see, a type of yellow flat rock she had never seen before rising up from the level board in great amounts and at frequent intervals.  There were hardly any trees offering protection against the fiery orb above, Riku noticed, disappointedly, already missing the cool caress of shade and breeze, in which there was none here, or scarcely any without carrying a burst of irritating heat, upon skin.

            "Autumn arrives late here on Cerawyn," her father explained, taking in the way Riku kept on scratching at her skin, as if there was a constant itch running along the length of her arm.  He was unloading the bags from the boat.  One of these, Riku's, he handed to her.  The other two he slung over his shoulders.

            "You've been here before, Father?" questioned Risa.  She, too, looked less than comfortable, though now her thin garments were aiding her rather than causing distress.  On the other hand, Riku's clothing, consisting of an undershirt overlaid with a woolen tunic and a pair of leggings fashioned from the same material, were beginning to grow cumbersome, weighing down on her body like sacks of sand.  With each passing minute the situation grew worse; under the vengeful glower of the high morning sun, a fine sheen of sweat broke out over her body, and her thick clothes clung to her like sticky plaster.

            The lord nodded vaguely.  "But it's different from last I've seen it…" he said, distant eyes sweeping over the empty plain.  It was only when Riku announced that they should be going that he shook himself out of his trance-like state and led the way across the path, Risa following and Riku bringing up the rear.

            As they walked further and further down the dusty path, Riku observed that the yellow flat rocks had circular rings engraved inside them that were wide on the outside, yet the closer they got to the center the size of the rings became smaller.  There was a sort of tough, dark brown substance that surrounded the rocks.  The tops of the rocks were evenly smoothed, almost as if it had been connected to a larger part and had it removed.  Or chopped off, Riku thought unconsciously.

            When she continued to see the yellow rocks all along the side of the path and jutting out from everywhere over the seemingly endless plain, sometimes in clumps, Riku began to feel uneasy.  It was unnatural to have so many rocks, so smooth, about the area if this were just an ordinary plain.  Where were the trees?  The animals?  It was altogether too quiet—no flapping of wings, no rustles from scurrying creatures, not even the comforting whispers of gentle leaves.

            "Father?" Riku said hesitantly, jumping at the sudden appearance of a black bug that scurried across the path with nimble, silent legs.  Reminding herself belatedly that a bug smaller than the size of her fingernails would not harm her, she breathed in deeply and continued with her question, "Do you what kind of rocks these are?"

            "Rocks?"  Her father turned, not pausing in his long strides, and glanced at her.  She gestured towards the surroundings, and instantly her father's face grew grave.  It was a long time before he answered, and, when he did, he said the words slowly, a deep anguish lining his wrinkling forehead.  "Riku, those aren't rocks.  Have you—have you heard of cities where they make their houses from trees?"

            For a moment her father's words didn't sink in.  To fashion trees, Nature's companions and joy, into houses and actually live inside them every day and every night, spring through winter—the very idea was as preposterous as it was revolting!  To even snap a branch off a tree was unthinkable, much less tearing the whole tree apart, limb by agonizing limb.  The dead branches, the dried leaves crumpled up as if crying waterless tears…a shudder ran through Riku's body.

            Then bits and pieces about the homes of many foreign cities, read in a volume kept in her Mother's library, flitted through her mind, and Riku blanched in memory.  The compact little booklet had been fascinating at first, telling of the rich architecture of a lord's abode, of the creation of glass through the melting and cooling of sand and other materials, of the simple yet complex layout of a stone wall.  But halfway through the book it had begun to talk of the main resource for the structure of the most typical households—wood—and Riku, appalled, had quickly placed the book back on its shelf.

            Now however, looking about the stumped plain, which had probably once been a beautiful lush forest, there was no avoiding the fact that humans were held responsible above all others for the destruction of a massive part of Nature's beauty.

            Riku's heart ached for the trees that had been chopped down, ached for the trees that had done nothing but provide shelter and food to the weary traveler or a home to many an animal.  At the same time, she was beginning to feel the first stirrings of mistrust towards the people of Cerawyn.  Back on Syr, all homes were made of thatch and straw or stone and marble.  On the rare occasions that a tree would become firewood, a new sapling would be planted in its place.  Anything that was used was replaced, or at the very least replaced to the best of one's ability.

            "Why do they leave the stumps of the trees?" Risa, who had been silent the entire time, spoke up, shivering.  "This place looks so dead…couldn't they have planted new trees?  Or dig up the stumps and replace the holes with fresh soil and grass?"

            The lord Urwin shook his head sadly.  "I'm afraid that some people do not care for the well-being of the things provided by Nature, or, if they do, they usually wind up taking what they want from her and then leaving in hopes that what they took would regenerate on its own."

            "That's horrible!" exclaimed Risa, hands on hips.  "What people take they should give back."

            "If everyone did that, the world would be a much better—and more beautiful—place," the lord of Syr said with a short laugh.  "Ah, look.  We are at a fork in the road.  To head to Cirath, the city where the high lord and lady—that's the lord Kousuke and the lady Emiko—and their son—Daisuke—dwells, take the route leading west.  What's funny about Cirath is somehow, no matter where you are, if you walk in the direction of the sunset, you'll eventually wind up there, always.  Quite useful to remember if you ever run away and get lost," he said with a wink to the twins, his cheer seemingly restored.

            Riku determinedly pushed the thoughts of the dead trees to the back of her mind, although they still bothered and greatly disgusted her, and attempted a small smile.  Looking at the path, which, like her father had said, split into two different paths, one going straight left, the other meandering somewhere towards the east, she asked, as they traveled the west path, "Where does the other path lead to, Father?"

            "Keep following it and you get to Erucil, home to many scholars and an incredible amount of books.  I hear that they have a vast collection of paintings and art as well.  But that's all the way in Myrmidor, another country, so it doesn't really concern us, does it?"

            Paintings?  Art?

            "Father, are you sure that we're heading to the right city?" Riku said dubiously.  "It sounds as if that place would a better area to search than that city Cirath."

            "Your mother was sure," her father replied over his shoulder, as they descended a gently sloping, bowl-shaped valley with, to Riku's delight and relief, plentiful trees spread about the area whose leaves were edged with gold and brown—the only sign that autumn was even acknowledged in this vast green plain.

            Overhead, in the deep blue sky, a single bird pumped its feathered wings and chirped, a beautiful, lively little note that brought a smile to her face.  As if it had been a trumpeting call, animals began to one by one poke their tiny heads out of the ground or tree holes, and bustle to and fro.  Perhaps this place would not be so bad after all, Riku mused, banishing the image of a bleak castle surrounded by a league of sniggering barbarians brandishing shiny axes.

            "We're almost there," Riku's father announced as they arrived at the opposite end of the valley.  When they started to ascend, Risa plopped down on the ground and refused to budge another toe until they had a rest.  Her father argued against her but Risa remained stubbornly firm, stating that one, her feet were tired, and two, she needed to prepare herself for the meeting up ahead.  The second reason he couldn't argue against but the first produced a round of grumbles, as well as a good deal of exasperation on Riku's part.  However, in the end, they both relented, as they always did, and midday found them resuming their trek over the side of the valley, rimmed with towering mountains that stood like a ring of impassive guards.

            When they had nearly reached the top of the valley, they had to move to the side of the path to allow room for a man sporting a wheeled cart filled with goods on his back.  Riku blinked at the man's fanciful set of garments, despite the fact that the man was obviously at labor.  Whereas the clothing the people of Syr wore were practical, worn, and made to last, this person's clothing consisted of a thin silk shirt colored with twin streaks of blue and red, the latter so bright it was almost blinding to Riku, and a neat, crisp pair of trousers tucked into soft leather boots.  Why the man was doing such laborious chores when he obviously belonged to nobility was beyond her, but before Riku could stop to question the man as to where his horse or mule might be, her father whisked both her and Risa along the path to continue their ascent.

            What Riku saw next made her stagger, gawking.

            Before her, perhaps less than a league away, lay the most awe-inspiring image she had ever seen.  A castle seeming to brush the heavens up above stood proudly overlooking a wall of squared rock that had been carefully, painfully flattened from its round state to a shape that vaguely put into mind a picture of solid gray bricks.  Two enormous flags, one a red as bright as the man's shirt, another the deep crimson of spilled blood, waved from long, wide poles atop two soaring towers, snapping in the breeze like rivers of liquid fire.  The path they stood on eventually lead the way to the entryway of a town, and from the stoned roof of the arched entryway, in a space between hollowed rocks, hung a row of deadly, jagged fangs—the sharp end of the gate that was as of the moment lifted.

            People poured out of the city's gate in waves, shoving, pushing to get to their destinations.  One particularly pudgy man ran smack into Riku while she was taking in the dizzying sight of the kingdom of Cirath.  Both fell crashing to the ground, but the man quickly recovered and, not even bothering with a second glance at Riku, scurried away and was swallowed by the crowds.  Annoyed and feeling rather small, Riku hastily got to her feet and hurried off to the secluded forest nearby.

            Here Riku attempted to go back to the castle, remembering that running off the path had also meant leaving her father and Risa behind.  With swifter and surer footfalls as familiar territory surrounded her, she set off in the direction in which she had last seen the gate, peering at the steady stream of people from time to time between trees to confirm her course.  At last, nearly running straight into it, Riku arrived at the castle's wall, panting.  She put the sweaty palms of her hands against the smooth, cold surface and leaned her forehead against it for support.  However, her break was sadly cut short when she heard a rustle of clothing above her.  She looked up.

            And that was how Riku met the son of the high lord and lady of Cirath, and the future husband of her sister Risa—one leg swung precariously over the side of the wall, a huge pack slung over his shoulder, and a pair of wide red eyes that stared at her in a mixture of horror and shock.

            Then a cry, a crash and a crack sounded all at once, and the world turned black.

~~~~~~~

**Author's notes/rants:**  Nooo!!!  *cries*  Dang it!  I didn't make it in time!  This chapter was supposed to have been posted today (September 11) but I uploaded it just as it turned 12:00 A.M., and I'm completely serious.  T_T  Ah man…I even held back posting this chapter for a month and two days, just because I wanted it up today, as my birthday present to you all.  Yep, I'm serious; on the day of the great disaster in New York on 2001 I was born.  *sigh*  Oh well, can't help it.  Besides, my birthday came before the disaster.  ~_^

Anyway, so how did you all like the chapter?  Did I ever tell you guys that I really love typing this story?  ^_^  Well, this chapter is more or less based on the relationship between Riku and Risa, but I couldn't really help it (points at the dedication at the very top).  Oh and if you didn't already kind of guess from my writing, this story will be based more on emotion, conflict, and relationships between family and friends, than action/adventure.  So if you want to read a story of that genre, you will not find it here.  Just a warning for those who might find the rants and thoughts of mine boring.

And now, once again, I have another question: What is the name of Satoshi's real father, does anybody know?  I don't _think_ they ever mentioned his name in the manga or anime, but then again, I'm usually always wrong.  ^_^

Oh and special thanks to **Miko** for answering the question about the birthdays—I really appreciated it.  ^_^  I want to thank **Illicit Water Dragon (Von)** and **SukiAme** as well for their continual support and comments.  ^_^  And thank you to everybody else who has read my story!  You all get a hefty chunk of cake and a huge grin.  *grins*  (Man I love that word!  ^_^)  Comments and criticism about my writing are always appreciated!  Thank you!  ^_^

~Lucere

(9/11/03)


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